


high school reunion

by jhoom



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Mutual Pining, bottom!dean (implied), dean/lydia - Freeform, single parent!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-08
Updated: 2017-12-08
Packaged: 2019-02-12 00:33:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12947448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jhoom/pseuds/jhoom
Summary: After some issues their senior year, Dean and Cas break up and go their separate ways. Despite still longing for what once was and what could have been, they don’t try to get in touch…Ten years later, their high school reunion throws them back together. Will they actually work things out, or continue avoiding each other?





	high school reunion

**Author's Note:**

> so welcome to another fic that i accidentally wrote because of an emoji ficlet :) as usual, i've collected all of the original posts and done absolutely nothing to edit them; all i've done is put spacing between the original posts because they almost always result in a POV change. keep in mind that i haven't actually reread this and it was written over the course of several weeks, so there may be some continuity errors. feel free to point them out, but no guarantees i'll actually get around to fixing them...
> 
> i should hopefully get around to updating "to wear the crown" and "free to be you and me" soon, but until then, visit me on tumblr [@jhoomwrites](http://jhoomwrites.tumblr.com) where i post a new ficlet pretty much every day (as well as babble about destiel and dcj).

“You’ve got an invitation to your ten year high school reunion,” Hannah says as she flips through the mail. “Along with a new catalogue to Honey Bees and Beekeeping Quarterly, a birthday card from your mother, and at least five pieces of junk mail for credit cards.”

Hannah’s a wonderful assistant, she really is. She helps Castiel out tremendously, not just with his work but with more personal tasks like helping with the mail and making sure he actually eats regularly. Castiel reminds him of this now to keep from snapping at her now.

“I’ll take the catalogue and the birthday card. You can trash the rest.”

Part of what makes Hannah such an effective assistant is that she’s able to distinguish between what Cas wants and what he needs; she’s got a sense for parsing out the latter and blatantly ignoring instructions if she thinks they’re poor instructions. Castiel knows this, knows it’s about to happen now, but he keeps typing away at his computer in the hopes that she will take a hint and maybe just this once let him be—

“What about the reunion? Those are usually fun.”

Castiel buries his face in his hand. He does not want to think about high school.

“It’s a waste of time and energy.” Yes he’s gritting his teeth. Yes he’s aware that he’s frowning and glaring and likely making it all too obvious that there’s more to it than that.

Hannah looks between the invitation and Cas before taking a seat across from him. He silently curses himself for having decided to write at the dining room table today instead of barricading himself in his office.

“It this about the one who got away?” Hannah gently asks, eyes wide and full of sympathy.

“Wh-what?” He gives up any pretense of writing (and looking at the screen shows that the only thing he’s typed since Hannah brought up the reunion is  _ I loathe Dean Winchester _ ) and tries to figure out how he could’ve given himself away.

“I’ve read your books,” she says dismissively. “And the reviews. And your interviews. It’s as though it’s my job.” After a wry smile she continues. “All of work is very different. You write science fiction one year and a coming of age novel set in modern Portugal the next. But the one theme that’s consistent across your whole work is the young lovers who ultimately end up apart due to tragedy and circumstance. Basically you hide a Romeo and Juliet subplot in every story you’ve ever written, and it’s led many to believe that you have similar heartbreak in your past.”

She’s quiet a moment, waiting for Castiel to comment. He can’t say anything, since it’s unfortunately true and even a denial right now would seem weak. Silence isn’t much better, but at least he won’t say anything he regrets or sound too pathetic when his voice cracks.

“And now,” Hannah continues, pushing an envelope across the table. “Now you’re very upset about this reunion, and it makes me wonder if there’s someone from your past, someone who’s inadvertently caused dozens of sad ends for your characters, who might be there.”

“There is,” Castiel finally admits. “And I truly want nothing to do with that man or that town ever again. It was hard enough to walk away the first time, and…”  _ I don’t know if I’m strong enough to do it again. _ He shakes his head to dispel the thought. “I’m not one to rub in my success and make him feel bad for what he lost, but I certainly don’t want to go there and have to endure the same from him.”

Not that he believes Dean truly that cruel, but even being around him and hearing about his happiness would hurt. It’s hard enough knowing Dean’s out there, living the life he should have been living with Cas but with someone else; seeing it firsthand would be unbearable.

He’s shed enough tears for Dean over the years. He doesn’t plan on shedding anymore.

Hannah nods. She quietly takes the envelope back and adds it to the trash pile. When she hesitates, Castiel knows full well the question she’s going to ask before she does. There’s a chance to close the topic and avoid it altogether, but Castiel figures he’s gone this far he may as well go all the way.

“My childhood best friend and high school sweetheart, whom I was supposed to go to college with and marry and live our happily ever after with, knocked up one of the cheerleaders. He was too honorable of a man to let the mother of his child be a single parent alone, so he broke things off with me to help her raise the baby. Last I heard, they were happily married and raising a undoubtedly beautiful baby girl.”

“Honorable?” Hannah asks. “He slept with some cheerleader while you two were dating. That hardly seems honorable at all.”

Castiel blindly opens his mouth to defend Dean, but stops himself. He and Lydia had sex once and it was before Dean and Cas started dating. It was unfortunate timing, their paths in life briefly linked but always meant to diverge. In one fell swoop, Castiel had completely lost Dean as a lover and friend.

… And Dean had gotten a job in town and given up all plans for college. He’d doomed himself to small town life, and Castiel sometimes lamented the man Dean would have been if he’d been given the chance.

_ He’s happy with Lydia and their daughter. He doesn’t seem to think he’s lost a damn thing. You’re the one who cared too much. You’re the one who lost everything. _

“Dean made his choices. I’ve accepted that, even if I don’t like it. I’m not going to the reunion, though. That chapter of my life is over and I in no way want to revisit it.”

“Understood.” Hannah goes right back to work mode, grabbing the empty tea cups and heading into the kitchen to clean them and get more. Castiel hears her toss the mail out, and he tries very hard to pretend it’s what he wants.

When it comes to Dean, Castiel knows he’s weak. He knows that despite having his heart broken, he longs to see those pretty green eyes again. He wants to hear Dean’s voice one last time, and his heart confidently says it could survive the ache when it’s over.

That’s not what holds Castiel back. He worries that seeing Dean again would ultimately reveal that their feelings for each other are still there. If there’s one thing Castiel won’t be, it’s a homewrecker.

So he deletes a couple pages worth of  _ I loathe Dean Winchester _ (and a few errant  _ I love Dean Winchester _ ’s as well) and re-reads the last meaningful paragraph he’s written.

Back to work.

~ ~ ~

Dean sighs happily in his sleep, rolling over to snuggle closer to the warm presence next to him—

Only to remember there  _ is _ no one else in bed with him. His hands find nothing but empty sheets and cold. With a groan, he buries his face in his pillow and tries very hard not to cry. Is he really going to have this dream  _ every fucking night _ ?

_ I’m just lonely _ , he tells himself.  _ Haven’t shared a bed with anyone in… fuck, I don’t even know how long. It doesn’t have anything to do with… with  _ **_him_ ** _. _

There’s no denying that it’s partially true. Dean’s missed the closeness, the intimacy of sleeping next to someone else. It’s a lie to say that’s  _ all _ there is to his current bout of loneliness. Because when you got right down to it, there’s one person in particular he wants with him.

All these years later, he still misses Cas.

Missing Cas isn’t a luxury he’s allowed himself. The feeling was there, unspoken but ever present. It was almost taboo to bring up the other man, so he’d held his tongue. Pushed Cas to the back of his mind and forced himself to move forward.

That’d been a lot easier when a.) Lydia was still in the picture and b.) before this stupid high school reunion.

_ Bullshit and you know it, _ Dean tells himself as he pushes out of bed.  _ You’ve thought about Cas every fucking day since he left town. _

_ You just used to be better at finding another topic to latch onto. _

Being married, having Emma, learning how to be a functioning adult, those had all been great distractions. For years, Dean was able to avoid thinking about Cas by worrying about those things instead. But as time went on, the distractions disappeared one by one.

Dean’s an adult with a job. Sure he’s got bills and all that, but he’s not struggling to make ends meet and he’s got his life sorted out.

Emma’s not a baby anymore. At nine, she’s got school, friends, and ballet taking up her time. Dean doesn’t have to watch her constantly like when she was a baby and toddler; she’s becoming her own person, and he’s there for support.

And being married… well, that lasted all of two years before it fell apart.

It’s too bad. If he’d been more mature when Lydia had gotten pregnant, he probably wouldn’t have made the choices he’d made. At the time, marriage seemed the only solution. That’s what people do when they have kids, right? They get married? It might’ve also been a little bit where he was and the year and all that, but still, he should’ve considered other options.

And then after Emma was born and Lydia changed… Well, if he’d even known postpartum was a thing, Dean would’ve done better getting Lydia the support she needed. But he didn’t know and he wasn’t able to understand Lydia’s behavior, and things spiraled out of control from there. By the time they got divorced and Dean got custody of Emma, it was a relief.

His first impulse when he got the final paperwork was to call Cas.

Obviously, he’d ignored the urge. Emma was still young and being a good dad had meant more; it’d felt selfish for a number of reasons to try and immediately go back to Cas as soon as he was free of Lydia.

Never mind that Cas had  _ absolutely no reason _ to want Dean back.

Dean had broken things off. He was the one who’d said it was over. And since then, it wasn’t like Dean had become a catch or anything. No college degree or prospects to get one, living in his parents’ basement with a toddler, doing his best to be at least a competent mechanic… He was a nobody. Cas might’ve loved him once upon a time, but there was no way he was going to give Dean a second chance.

In the years since then, Dean had resigned himself to it. He’d had two failed shots at love, and between Lydia and Cas he’d fucked them both up. His heart couldn’t handle a third, so he kept things casual and stayed positive about where he was in life. He had a beautiful daughter, a good job, he was finally going back to school for his Bachelor’s, had an amazingly supportive network of friends and family… True love just wasn’t in the cards for him.

This reunion though. He got the damn invite and figured yeah, it’d be fun. He’d RSVP’d and looked forward to a night of drinking with some old friends he hadn’t seen in awhile. Ash, Charlie, Benny, a bunch of other people who’d moved away. Getting the gang back together at the same time in the same place, that sounded like his type of fun.

Then his stupid brain and his stupid heart had simultaneously reminded him  _ Hey, you know who else might be there? _

He hasn’t been able to get the thought out of his head since, thus the nightly dreams about Cas.

“Morning,” Sam says brightly when Dean appears in the kitchen. Both he and Emma are eating cereal, though Dean notices Emma’s got the sugary stuff and Sam’s got some weird fiber cluster thing, and Dean feels like he missed the memo on breakfast.

“Mornin’,” he grumbles as he pours himself some coffee—already gone cold—and takes a seat between his daughter and his brother at the kitchen island. “How long you two been up?”

“Years,” Emma says dramatically. “We went for a walk, but you still weren’t up when we came home.”

Sam shrugs. “Maybe two hours? Need my help with anything while you get ready for tonight?”

Cas or no Cas, Dean figures he’ll be out late and too drunk to be coherent. Sam, saint of a younger brother as he (occasionally) is, offered to watch Emma for the night. He’d actually driven in from out of town to do it, and Dean really owes him one. Part of why he doesn’t want to take too much advantage now.

“Nah, I think I’m good.”

“Da _ ddy _ ,” Emma whines, tugging on his sleeve. “Can I show Uncle Sam my dance for the recital?”

“Course, sweetheart.”

“With my tutu?” Then she bats her eyelashes.

Emma wore a tutu probably every day from the ages of three to five. Once she’d started school, Dean had begged and  _ pleaded _ with her to only wear it during dance class. He’s usually pretty reluctant to let her wear it around the house now, fearful that she’ll slip back into the habit, but his nerves are shot and he doesn’t want to argue.

Besides, she’s nine. She’s a  _ tad _ more reasonable than when she was five.

“Go for it. It’s in the laundry room.”

“Yaay!” She doesn’t even finish her cereal, just takes off.

Once she’s gone, Sam turns that annoying puppy dog face on Dean. “So…”

“You seriously suggested she show you the dance and wear the tutu so you could get me alone, didn’t you?”

“You’re saying I manipulated my own niece to have a private conversation with my own brother? I’m offended.”

“That is absolutely what I’m saying. And I don’t exactly hear a denial.”

Sam continues to not offer one. “Look, I just figured I’d ask if you’d thought about… about what you’re going to say or do if… y’know… if  _ he _ shows up.”

“He won’t,” Dean says firmly as he puts down his coffee and grabs Emma’s abandoned cereal. He takes a bite and glares at his brother. “He lives across the country is way too busy and important to wanna come back to friggin’ Kansas for this stupid thing.”

Sam’s fingers drum across the countertop. “Okay, but like,  _ hypothetically _ … If he  _ does _ show up, do you know what you’re gonna do?”

Does Dean know what he’d do if he came face to face with Cas again?

Fuck no he doesn’t.

Oh, he knows perfectly well what he  _ wants _ to do. He wants to pull him into a hug and never let go. Or maybe kiss him senseless and declare his undying love. Hell, even getting on his knees and blowing the guy is something Dean would happily get on board with. None of those are options, though.

Cas is… Cas isn’t just Dean’s biggest regret. Cas is now a famous, successful writer who  _ somehow _ ended up getting hotter as he got older. Probably because Dean’s life isn’t fair, not one fucking bit.

It’d happened a little after the divorce. Cas published his first novel and it took off. Almost every year, a new one was out, even better than the last one. It really hammered it into Dean’s head that he is in no way good enough for Castiel Shurley. Not one fucking bit.

He’s admittedly kept a close eye on Cas’ career. He’s read every single one of his books (three times) and looks forward to when his second book gets made into a movie next year. He’ll never admit it to anyone, but he’s even joined a few online book clubs to talk about Cas’ books. The ones that sometimes have the actual author join the chat to answer questions.

How many times has Dean been sitting at his computer, knowing that  _ Castiel fucking Shurley _ , wherever the fuck he is out there in the real world, is in the same damn chat room as him  _ right that moment. _ Every time, Dean dares himself to ask a question.

_ Do you ever write about people you knew or your own life? _

_ Was the girl with green eyes and freckles me? _

_ What about the man with bowlegs? Was that me? _

_ The couple that broke up after college and never saw was either again? Was that us? _

_ Do you think of me at all? _

_ Do you even remember me? _

And every fucking time, he chickens out. It feels dishonest, to talk to Cas without Cas knowing it’s even him, and it feels like it’d be unfair to surprise him with personal questions in a public chat like that.

“No clue,” Dean admits. “But I really don’t think it’ll come up.”

“It’s just…” Sam looks like there’s a  _ lot _ he wants to say, but he knows it’s only a matter of time before Dean bites his head off or shuts down, so he has to pick his words carefully. “I think it’d be a good opportunity for you,” he says slowly, “to get some closure. I know you carry around a lot of… I know you still think about what happened. If he does show up—”

“He won’t.”

“Yeah, okay, but if he does—”

“He  _ won’t _ ,” Dean says more firmly. “Trust me, I know Cas. He ain’t showing up.”

Thankfully that’s when Emma comes running into the room, bright orange tutu on and ballet shoes in hand. “Daddy, I need help!”

“Sure thing, sweetheart. I’ll help you with your hair too.”

Dean is profoundly relieved when the topic doesn’t come up again for the rest of the day. It’s clearly on Sam’s mind when he says good-bye, but he keeps his mouth shut.

Thank god.

~ ~ ~

Castiel  _ hates _ Hannah. He hates that Hannah is so damn good at her job and knows him so damn well. He wishes he could fire her for that: being too good.

He told Hannah to throw out the invitation to the reunion because he’s weak. The possibility of seeing Dean Winchester again, no matter how painful, is a temptation he’d eventually give into. So when he casually brought it up, it shouldn’t have mattered, because Hannah threw it out.

“When was that reunion thing?” Cas asks casually as he trades an empty tea mug for the new one Hannah has for him.

The answer should be a quick, “I don’t know, I didn’t check before I threw it out. I’m sorry.” And then Cas can say it’s alright, he was just curious, and they can move on.

Of course that’s not how it goes.

“Next Friday. Plenty of time to book a flight and get you a hotel room if you’d like.”

Cas sits there frozen, tea halfway to his mouth as his brain tries to process that.

The words are out of his mouth before he can take them back: “If you can find me a room with a king and a first class ticket for the whole weekend, I’d appreciate it.”

Shit.

In the span of less than a minute, he’d caved in. What the hell is wrong with him?

“Of course.” Hannah beams at him as she disappears. She returns a suspiciously short amount of time later with info about his flight and accommodations, along with the invitation that’s  _ supposed _ to be at the bottom of a landfill by now. Castiel goes through the next week wondering how the hell he ended up in this situation and how to get out of it.

… Even though that selfish part of him does  _ not _ want to get out of it. His overactive imagination conjures scenario after scenario of what it’ll like to see Dean again, everything from Dean being miserable and full of regret for leaving Cas to Dean being absolutely happy in his life with Lydia and their 2.5 perfect children in their perfect house with their pet dog and all that other domestic nonsense.

The day of his flight, Hannah packs his bag for him and drops him off at the airport with a reminder to be nice and to not make a scene.

“Say hi to Dean for me!” she calls after him with a cheerful wave before she drives off, and he hates her a little more.

He curses Hannah all the way to his terminal. The whole flight, he angrily starts a new short story about an annoying, meddling secretary who now finds herself in the middle of a horror story (that she will ultimately survive, because even upset, Cas likes Hannah too much to have her likeness brutally killed off). He scowls at his Uber driver and the hotel staff that check him in.

And then, as he gets dressed in the white button down, navy sweater, and khakis Hannah picked out for her, he forces himself to relax. No matter what Dean’s situation may be, Cas does not want to appear as though he’s upset by it. Because he’s not. Dean Winchester’s life is not his concern. He does not care.

Nope.

Not at all.

…Maybe he should check his hair one more time to make sure it looks halfway decent. Not for Dean or anything. He wants to make a general good impression on everybody.

Sufficiently convinced of his own disinterest, Cas sets out for the reunion.

Whatever committee was in charge of planning rented out a community center near their school. Cas is vaguely familiar with it. He might have attended a birthday party or bar mitzvah here back in the day. As he walks in, he keeps his eyes focused on the path in front of him. He pointedly does not look around at the other groups of people filing in. He in no way, shape, or form wants to seem too eager.

After he checks in, he makes his way past the check-in desk and heads farther in to find the drinks. There are drinks here, right? He’s not sure he can survive the evening sober. Perhaps he should’ve pregamed at the hotel to calm his nerves—

“Look what the cat dragged in. Castiel Shurley, the only one of us who made it big, back to grace us with his presence.”

Castiel relaxes immediately and turns to find a friendly face. “Meg. Good to see you.”

“Likewise.” They hug briefly, then Meg slings an arm through Cas’ and nudges him towards the tables set up along the far wall. “You look like you could use a hard drink.”

“That obvious?”

“Yep. Now let’s get you liquored up so you can relax and tell me all about being a famous artist.”

“Writer,” he corrects.

“Uh huh.”

Meg turns out to be the perfect distraction, though she always was, even back in school. She didn’t take anything seriously, which made it easier for Cas to stop fixating on the importance of things that truly didn’t matter to the degree he thought they did. The few times he’d skipped with class with her instead of stressing out about AP tests and midterms had done a world of good for him.

“So you here to see your old man candy or will you hanging out with me all night?” Meg asks after Cas finishes describing his latest project to her.

He nearly chokes on his beer. “ _ What _ ?”

“Winchester. I’m assuming you came to town to rub your success in his face. So you plan on doing that in person or doing it from afar with me?” Meg doesn’t seem at all upset by the possibility of Cas ditching her for Dean. Genuinely curious, but not annoyed.

“I-I don’t—I’m not here for Dean—”

“Sure you’re not.” Meg rolls her eyes and dismisses his attempts to protest with a wave. “And I’m totally not here for the free booze and to mess with Crowley. Whatever you gotta tell yourself, I’m fine with that.  _ But _ ,” she emphasizes the word and peers around Cas, “said man candy just showed up. So if you’re looking for him, there he is.”

He doesn’t mean to, but he follows her gaze to the entrance.

Holy  _ shit. _

Dean had always been unfairly attractive. His features were perfectly symmetrical, his eyes stunning, his bowlegs one of those “imperfections” that only added to the beauty of the whole. Everything about him had been gorgeous back when they were eighteen and didn’t know better. Now Castiel is decidedly more worldly, and still seeing Dean staggers him.

The man is a work of art. The stubble lining his jaw suits him, as do the muscles he’s built up over the years. And there’s a fluidity to his movements, something that was never there when he was a lanky teenager still not quite used to his body. He moves with confidence, with the casual reassurance of someone who knows he’s attractive and is unconcerned with what the people around him might think.

Lydia is conspicuously absent. Castiel’s heart flutters as he wonders what  _ that _ might mean.

Like a magnet, Dean draws him in. Castiel doesn’t even know he’s walking over until he’s halfway there and Dean’s eyes fall on him.

Dean’s eyes go wide and a little of that confidence disappears. In that instant, Cas recognizes the eighteen year old boy who was terrified of becoming a father and messing up some poor kid’s life because he was too young to do a good job.

Fuck had he loved that eighteen year old boy.

He very much suspects he would love this twenty-eight year old man, too, if given the chance.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Hey Cas,” Dean whispers. His cheeks flush and Cas delights in seeing the freckles stand out against the pink. How had he forgotten about that? “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I didn’t expect to be here,” Cas admits.

“Oh.” Dean shuffles uneasily on his feet. “Then why’d you come?”

“I—” There’s no answer to that question that isn’t  _ I wanted to see you one last time _ , so Cas scrambles to find something less incriminating to say. “I suppose I just wanted one last chance to catch up with people. I’m not in town much.”  _ Or ever. I very purposefully skip any book tours that take me within two hundred miles of here. _ “What about you?”

“The same, I guess.” He motions at the empty beer can Cas is holding. “They got an open bar deal going on here?”

“They do.”

“Cool.” Then he fidgets and won’t meet Cas’ eye. “You wanna grab a couple beers and catch up? I uh… I was never too happy with how we left things, and it’d be great to just talk—”

“Sure.” Cas is in no way surprised that his mouth as run away with him. With three drinks already in his system, there is literally nothing that Dean Winchester could ask of him right now that he’d refuse. It’s a dangerous position to be in, buzzed and following Dean around like a lost puppy, but he can’t help it. “Let’s get some drinks and find somewhere to sit.”

Their hands definitely do not brush as they walk to the drink table.

~ ~ ~

Dean’s first thought is  _ Shit what the hell am I going to tell Sam? _ but he quickly ignore that because he does  _ not  _ want to think about Sam’s smug  _ I told you so _ right now. Right now he wants to think about what the hell on god’s green earth he’s doing, asking Cas to have drinks with him and catch up.

He doesn’t have to look behind him to know Cas has followed him to the drink table. But fuck does he need a drink. He immediately does two shots, making a face at the burn but fighting through it. Cas gives him a look, but based on the way he’s swaying slight on his feet, Cas is already a few drinks in himself.

_ Always was a lightweight… _

Once he’s taken care of his sobriety, he grabs a couple beers for him and Cas. Together they find an empty couch (a generous term, the damn thing’s barely larger than a loveseat) and sit down. They keep a respectful distance apart because that’s what you do with virtual strangers, right? You’re friendly but you give them space.

“I really didn’t think I’d see you back here,” Dean confesses. Yep, alcohol’s already doing it’s work if he’s admitting that shit. “Thought you’d outgrown this shitty town.”

Cas rolls his eyes. “It’s not that bad of a town.”

It’s an old argument, one that they never settled on. Funny, Cas the one always defending it but he’s the one who got away.

“You’re right. We got an Arby’s now. Leaps and bounds better than the shithole this place used to be when we were kids.”

“An Arby’s? Wow, that really does change things. Clearly I moved away too soon.”

Dean laughs and it  _ hurts _ . Fuck, man. Love of his life right here, and they slip back so easily into the way they used to be. It’s supposed to be  _ hard _ . They’re supposed to have grown apart, become different people with nothing in common. Seeing Cas is supposed to get him over that stupid feeling of regret he’s been dealing with since Cas left lately.

If it weren’t for the ache in his chest whenever he looks at Cas, Dean would think they’d never spent the last decade apart.

They’re not supposed to  _ still _ click. They’re not. The broken shards of Dean’s heart can’t take it.

It doesn’t help that Cas is devastatingly handsome. He’d always been cute, but he’d been kind of awkward as a kid. When they graduated, you could start to see the person he’d grow into, but he hadn’t quite gotten there yet. Of fucking course Dean’s seen pictures—they’re hard to avoid, especially with all his interviews and his damn portrait inside the back cover of each of his books—but they’ve all undersold the fucking gorgeous man sitting next to him.

Weren’t they on different sides of the couch when they sat down? Their thighs are almost touching now. Huh. When did that happen?

“How’s the book writing going?” Dean asks just for something to say. He knows probably everything Cas would be willing to share with him, but he hasn’t heard it from  _ Cas.  _ Fuck he missed that voice, the deep rumble that’s somehow gotten  _ deeper _ over the years.

“Well. Though my agent’s always telling me it could go better. I think Balthazar’s trying to scare me into doing more interviews and book tours, but I like the moderate notoriety I’ve achieved. More would be… excessive.”

“Moderate notoriety? You fucking kidding? New York Time’s Bestseller lists, a fucking movie deal, going on late night talk shows—” Dean pinches himself; it’s the only way he can get himself to shut the fuck up. He does  _ not _ need to come off as a stalker. “Seems like you’re doing really well, is all,” he finishes lamely before hiding behind his beer.

If Cas finds Dean’s outburst odd, he mercifully doesn’t comment. There is a  _ slight _ pink tinge to his cheeks, but Dean figures that’s probably the alcohol. Definitely not anything  _ Dean _ said.

They keep talking. They talk about Cas’ work, then Dean’s work, then mutual friends that they’ve managed to keep up with. They talk about Sam and they talk about what happened to Cas’ family’s house once they moved.

They talk about everything but relationships, actually. Dean’s too scared to bring it up himself. Cas is amazing, and Dean knows damn well other people have figured that out since high school. He doesn’t want to find out that Cas is happily married or dating someone who’s ten times more worldly and smarter than Dean ever was. It’s probably silly, but he just wants to  _ pretend _ until the party’s over and they get kicked out.

They don’t talk about Emma, either, and that’s on Dean. He  _ wants _ to show off his little girl, but he’s worried it’s too much of a sore spot for Cas. This is the last time he’s gonna see Cas, and he wants it to be positive. He couldn’t bear it if he saw hate in Cas’ eyes.

Their thighs are definitely pressed together, one solid line. Cas feels so warm and inviting. Dean never wants to get up.

“So you two playing nice?” Meg asks as she changes Dean’s empty can for a fresh one. They keep getting visitors. Benny and Charlie and Jo and on and on. They stick around for a little bit, chatting and bringing the boys more drinks. Dean hasn’t gotten up since they found this spot, but he’s managed to keep a pretty heavy buzz going.

“Why wouldn’t we be?” Cas asks. The slight edge in his voice makes it clear he knows exactly why.

“So we haven’t gotten to the elephant in the room, then? Oh Clarence.” Meg laughs. “What  _ are _ the rules on two exes getting together at their high school reunion to chat?”

Cas looks so damn flustered. It’s adorable.

“We’re making it up as we go,” Dean says, then immediately regrets it. Meg doesn’t react, just shrugs and wanders off, but Cas goes pale. It’s one of the more well known lines from his first book, and Cas  _ definitely _ understood the reference.

Great. Exposed as a total fanboy.

Their legs are touching now, too.

“You read my books?”

He can’t meet Cas’ eyes.

“C’mon Cas. You know I like reading your stuff. Been doing it since the second grade when all you’d ever write about was your sister’s guinea pig.”

Cas gives one of his rare gummy smiles at the reminder, a laugh bubbling forth and that’s all it takes for Dean to know he is just as screwed as he was a lifetime ago.

“I forgot about that.” Cas wheezes a little as he tries to catch his breath. “I hope you didn’t keep any of those stories. My publicist would have a field day.”

“Oh man, I’m totally gonna see if I have any of those comics you drew left and send them to her.”

“… Please don’t.”

Their shoulders are pressed tightly together.

“I really like your books, Cas.” In for a penny, in for a pound, right? “It’s almost like I get to still talk to you, reading them. When I read them, it’s like you never left.”

“… I can’t believe you read them.”

“‘Course Cas. I told you you’re my favorite author…”

“Well, you were my best friend. I think you were obligated to tell me that.”

“Nah, as your best friend I was obligated to tell you the truth.”

They’re leaning into each other’s space, breathing the other’s air. They’re too close, far too close for this to end well, but Dean can’t pull away. He  _ can’t _ .

“You were a good best friend,” Cas whispers. They’re too close, Dean can’t think straight. “I wish you still were my friend.”

“Cas,” he pleads. Cas clothes his eye and shudders, then quickly opens them again to look at Dean with lust blown eyes.

“Yes, Dean?”

Dean doesn’t remember what he was going to say or if he was even going to say anything at all. He’s mesmerized by Cas’ lips as they move, his adam’s apple as it bobs up and down, those lovely blue eyes…

“Dean?” Cas’ voice wavers. “Please…”

Dean leans forward and pulls Cas into a kiss, sighing into it as Cas does the same. All Dean can think is how  _ amazing _ it feels to taste Cas’ lips again.

~ ~ ~

Cas’ mind doesn’t follow the thread of events as they unfold. He’s aware of Dean leaning in to kiss him, Dean’s lush lips meeting his own. Then he’s aware of guiding Dean onto his lap. Then nothing but sweet noises and the growing hardness in his pants. Other than that, it’s mostly the feeling of his heart overflowing with joy.

And then Dean’s dragging him through the crowd into one of the bathrooms in the back of the rec center. Dean’s cognizant enough to lock the door behind them, then they’re kissing again.

“Fuck, Cas,” Dean groans when Cas backs him against the nearest wall. “Love it when you get rough with me.”

Spurred on, Cas lifts Dean onto the counter. Dean’s legs wrap around Cas automatically, his mouth opens to Cas’ tongue, and his hips shift to line up their cocks against each other. Then Cas loses coherence again, his body chasing bliss in any way it can.

“You taste so fucking good,” Dean whines. His hands are groping at Cas’ ass and it feels  _ wonderful _ .

“You look so fucking gorgeous,” Cas growls back, pulling Dean by the hair to bare his neck and suck a bruise under his jaw.

“You know how many times I’ve gone to dive bars, picking up guys with dark hair and blue eyes? Pretending it was you as they fucked me into some dirty motel mattress?”

Cas shudders. That Dean’s spared a thought for him at all over the years is gratifying; knowing that he still desires Cas is beyond comprehension.

“You know how many times I’ve written you into a story, only to fall in love with the character? Every fucking time, too. You  _ asshole. _ ”

“‘S your books,” Dean mutters between kisses. “Not my fault.”

“Always your fault. Always too damn perfect… Couldn’t write you poorly if I wanted to…”

He may as well outright confess he’s still in love with Dean.

Cas thinks he could come like this, just thrusting against Dean and kissing him, Dean’s hands wandering all over his body. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“You got a hotel we can go back to?”

And like that, the spell is broken and the moment shatters around him.

Oh no.

No no  _ no _ this is exactly where he didn’t want to be. He  _ knew _ if Dean pushed, he’d go willingly. He’d  _ hoped _ he’d have better restraint, better self control, but as always Dean’s proven to be his weakness.

“Cas?”

Cas pulls away, trying to calm himself down. This is bad, but it could have been worse. He can  _ keep _ it from getting worse.

“Cas, what’s wrong?”

He let himself get caught up in the moment. Dean’s presence is more intoxicating than the alcohol, tricking him into putting his guard down and falling for Dean’s charm. Obviously he should leave—

The door doesn’t move when Cas pushes, and he remembers it’s locked. Shaking hands try to unlock it, but Dean steps in the way.

“Cas, talk to me.”

“Let me go.”

Dean’s expression is unreadable, but he stands firm. “You wanna go, I’m not gonna stop you, but I’d kinda like an explanation first.”

An explanation? As if Dean doesn’t know  _ exactly _ what the issue is.

“You’re  _ married _ ,” Cas snaps.

Dean freezes then makes a pained face. “Jesus, Cas. You think I’m—You think I’d—”

A part of Castiel deflates. “Aren’t you and Lydia…? I’d thought…?”

Without a word, Dean shows as his left hand. The ring finger is bare, and when Cas grabs Dean’s hand to get a better look, he finds no tan line or impression where the skin’s been dented from wearing a ring. It’s identical to every other finger, completely lacking any sign of a wedding ring. Clearly there hasn’t been one there in some time.

“You got divorced?” Dean shrugs and Cas feels like an asshole. “Dean, I’m so sorry for thinking you would—”

“Hey, it’s okay. I uh… I probably shouldn’t have assumed you knew. Lydia and I…” He trails off, and Castiel hurries to keep Dean from having to talk about an obviously painful divorce.

“You don’t have to tell me.”

“Yeah, I kinda do. You of all people deserve to know. But maybe later?” Dean says hopefully. “When we’re not drunk and we have more time to actually… y’know, get into the nitty gritty of it?”

“Later?” The cloud of alcohol and lust is no longer obscuring his judgement. More dangerous than either, hope starts to grow. “You’d want to spend more time with me?”

“ _ Dude _ .” Dean stares at him incredulously. “I thought you were the smart one between us.”

“You’re plenty smart,” he answers automatically. “You just like to pretend you’re not.”

“Uh huh. Which one of us is an award winning novelist?”

“I didn’t say you knew how to write, I said you were smart. The two aren’t mutually inclusive.”

“Okay, well which one of us was smart enough not to knock up some random chick from school?”

Cas feels the color drain from his face. How can Dean be so blase about his own past? The very thing that tore them apart—?

“Whoa whoa.” Dean’s hands are on him, cradling his face and drawing him in for a chaste kiss. “Don’t freak out, okay? I’ve made my peace with my mistakes a long time ago. Had to. Either laugh or cry, right? Kinda tired of crying about it.”

“Dean…” He doesn’t know what to say in the face of that admission. Cas has dealt with his own regret and longing for years, but it’d brought him some meager comfort to think that Dean at least was happy with how things had turned out. To know they were  _ both _ miserable…

“Like I said, don’t worry about it. We can talk and be sad later. In the meantime, I’ve gone ten years without fucking you… I’d kinda like to make up for lost time.”

“You asked if I have a hotel room.” A smile creeps back onto his face, almost a full on grin as it grows wider and wider. Dean’s right, they deserve a night for the two of them without having to deal with their regret.

“I did. Sorry, but I got Sam and Emma at the house and I’d rather avoid the whole mess of bringing you home right now. Least until we talk things out.”

Dean’s embarrassment is endearing. Cas wishes he could say it was unnecessary, but given his earlier behavior, he completely understands.

“Emma is your daughter?”

“Yep. My lil ballet dancer slash prankster slash love of my life. Hope you’re in town long enough to meet her.”

There’s so much to unpack in that statement. Dean seems to have full custody of his daughter. Dean wants Cas to  _ meet _ his daughter. Dean must think there’s a future between them.

Does Cas want that?

Does he  _ really _ need to even consider that question?

“You’re thinking awful hard for a guy who seemed content to fuck me in a bathroom a few minutes ago.”

It’s true; his thoughts are buzzing in his head. He can barely pick out which one requires his focus, but he manages to settle on one he feels is innocuous yet telling. “This isn’t just a one night stand?”

“… It is if you want it to be, but I’m not gonna lie and say I wouldn’t be disappointed if that were the case. But seriously, Cas.  _ Ten years. _ I’ll take as much of you as I can get, for as long as I can get it.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep…”  _ Or else you’ll break my heart again. How many times will you promise me forever and snatch it away? _

“Sweetheart, at this point, the only one who’s gonna keep me from you is  _ you _ . You can kick me to the curb whenever, but I know I’m not changing my mind about it.  _ Trust me _ . I’ve had plenty of time to think about it. You’re it, Cas.”

Things aren’t fixed, not by a long shot, but for the first time since high school, Cas starts to think things really might turn out okay for him and Dean.

“Alright. Let’s go to my hotel.”

~ ~ ~

Dean wakes up feeling warm and comfortable in a way that’s painfully familiar. He assumes he’s still asleep and clutches on to the pieces of a half remembered dream. Cas was there, that’s a given, and he thinks they ended up at a hotel together. He shifts closer to the person next to him, burying his nose in their hair. The dream even  _ smells _ like Cas…

Part of him knows it wasn’t a dream, but for once it’s actually safer to pretend it was. In his dreams, he and Cas never argue. They fuck or cuddle or talk, and they’re always happy. Dean’s not sure he even knows who the real Cas is anymore. That’ll cause problems for sure, and Dean does  _ not _ want to have to deal with those problems.

His phone buzzes and he wakes up for real.

Oh well, he knew he’d have to deal with this eventually.

Dean groans loudly and reaches over the edge of the bed to find his phone, stuck in his pants, and is both annoyed and completely unsurprised to see a new message from Sam.

**sammy (8:16 am): you and cas coming over for breakfast? making pancakes**

_ dean (8:19 am): wtf howd you know i’m w/cas _

**sammy (8:21 am): dude you never came home who the fuck else would you have left with**

**sammy (8:23 am): besides, benny sent me a picture of you two looking real snug and cute on a loveseat**

_ dean (8:25 am): i hate both you and benny _

**sammy (8:27 am): you want pancakes or not?**

_ dean (8:28 am): yes. sorry. be there in thirty? _

**sammy (8:30 am): bring cas**

_ dean (8:31 am): ….. better make it an hour then _

“You awake?” Dean whispers. He has his suspicions, given that Cas’ breathing isn’t nearly as steady as it was moments ago and he seems unnaturally tense.

“Yes,” Cas answers, voice wrecked.

_ Do  _ **_not_ ** _ think about how it got that way. Seriously. Do not. _

_ … But damn if it wasn’t hot when he— _

“You up for breakfast?” Dean grits out. He does not need a reminder of him and Cas fucking like rabbits last night; he’s got morning wood he’s doing his best to ignore and he already promised Sam he’d be back home within an hour. They did  _ not _ have time to go at it again.

_ I’m sure Sam would understand— _

**_Focus!_ **

“The hotel offers free breakfast. I wouldn’t be opposed to seeing what they have.”

Dean winces. He abandons his phone and rolls back to Cas, hoping he doesn’t look as freaked out as he is.

“Actually… I was thinking maybe back at my place? Sam’s making pancakes.” He bit his tongue to keep from saying more; he’d made the offer, but he wants Cas to  _ want _ to accept it. If he has to talk him into it or beg at all, this is going to go downhill real quick.

“Oh.” Cas frowns up at Dean. “Sam was watching your daughter… She would be there…?”

It’s adorable that Cas is nervous about meeting Emma. Truth be told, Dean is unsure about it too, but he was serious when he said he wants Cas around. He’s willing to bend over backwards to make that work, and Cas and Emma meeting is definitely part of it. It might be too soon, but Dean’s waited  _ ten fucking years _ .

They’ve got lots of lost time to make up for.

“Yeah, she would. If that’s a dealbreaker, I understand but you should tell me now. Not gonna lie, I’d love you to meet her, but if my situation as a single dad makes you uncomfortable, we probably shouldn’t—”

“Dean.”

Dean knows that tone and instantly shuts up.

“I am well aware that you have a daughter. I just think there’s a lot we should discuss before we do something dramatic and life altering like introducing me to your child.”

“… But you  _ want _ to have that talk?”

“… Yes, I think I do.”

“And you’re open to us having life altering changes when it comes to each other?”

A slight flush crosses Cas’ cheeks. “Yes,” he admits. “The last time something like that happened, I wasn’t given much of a choice in the matter. This time, I’d very much like a say.”

Dean can’t help it, he leans down and kisses Cas. It’s long and thorough and moderately disgusting, but Dean ignores their morning breath in favor of committing the moment to memory. Cas is in bed with him. Cas wants to give him another shot.

“Sorry I made all the decisions last time,” Dean whispers. He rests their foreheads together. “Eighteen year old me was an idiot. Though fair warning, twenty eight year old me ain’t much smarter.”

The beginnings of a smile pull at the corners of Cas’ mouth. “It’s alright. I never was the sensible type.”

“Nope.”

Dean’s glad he told Sam an hour, because they lose a lot of time making out before Cas stops him.

“I’ll come over for breakfast, with the condition that the two of us—without Sam or your daughter there as an audience—talk. I very much want to do this with you, Dean, but I won’t let you break my heart again, either.”

“Cas, I’m so fucking sorry—”

“I know. And I appreciate that.” Cas runs a hand through Dean’s hair and looks up at him with such adoration that Dean shivers. That Cas still thinks he’s worth anything is a fucking miracle. “We’ll talk after breakfast?”

“If that’s all I gotta promise, then yeah. I can kick them outta the house for a bit, or we can go somewhere else.”

“Then we should probably put some pants on.”

~ ~ ~

Dean has no idea what to expect when he opens the front door. He smells bacon and he can hear voices from the kitchen, but other than that he has no idea how this is going to go.

Hopefully Sam did some damage control when Dean didn’t come home last night. If he’s laid the groundwork for Cas coming over, that’ll definitely help.

They head to the kitchen hand in hand, Castiel absolutely fascinated by the decor and pictures along the walls. It makes Dean’s heart swell a little to see Cas so eagerly take in Dean’s life, but he quashes the feeling. Right now he’s got something more important to do than be a lovesick fool.

“Morning,” Dean says brightly as he gently pulls Cas into the kitchen. Sam and Emma are at the little table in the breakfast nook. Their plates are empty, but there are two more place settings waiting for him and Cas. They take a seat and Dean waits for the damn inquisition he’s about to face.

“You’re late,” Emma says. “If I have to get permission to have sleepovers with friends, why don’t you?”

Cas chokes on his first bite of pancake, but Dean rolls his eyes.

“Which one of us is the parent here?”

“Which one of us broke curfew?” Emma shoots back.

“I don’t  _ have _ a curfew. And you probably shouldn’t be talkin’ too much. I bet if I ask your Uncle Sammy how you behaved last night, I’m gonna hear all about bed times that were ignored, tutus worn as pajamas, and ice cream for dinner.”

“You won’t,” Emma says confidently. “Uncle Sammy pinkie swore not to tell.”

“… Sounds like me and Sammy are gonna be having a conversation before he heads back home.”

“You won’t,” Sam mimics Emma perfectly. “Uncle Sammy pinkie swore.”

Dean rolls his eyes but can’t quite hold back a smile. There’s something  _ awesome _ about having a family moment with Cas there. The only thing missing is if Cas were  _ part _ of the moment.

“There’s someone I’d like you to meet.” Dean says as he gestures to Cas. “This is Cas. Cas, this is Emma.”

“Hi.” Emma offers her hand.

Cas looks lost for a second; it only takes a quick nudge under the table for Cas to spring into action. He takes Emma’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Are you my daddy’s boyfriend?” Emma asks. “Because Uncle Sammy said—”

Sam lunges across the table and clamps a hand over her mouth. “Uncle Sammy didn’t say anything.”

“Uh huh. Seems to be a common theme this morning.”

“Seriously though, I didn’t say anything major—”Sam suddenly jerks his hand away and makes a disgusted face. “You  _ licked _ me!”

Emma just laughs.

Dean can’t tell if this going really well or really badly, but he sneaks a glance at Cas. Cas is one part stunned, two parts amused, so he figures that’s a decent start.

“Cas isn’t my boyfriend,” Dean says when Emma calms down. “He used to be, and me might be again, but right now he’s just a friend, okay?”

“If he used to be your boyfriend… and he might be later… why isn’t he now?”

That’s complicated, to say the least. Dean thinks it over carefully before he answers; he doesn’t want to say anything that Emma might later thing is him saying something negative about having  _ her _ . As shitty as things went with him, Lydia, and Cas, he wouldn’t change a damn thing about having Emma in his life.

“Well, when I was in high school, I thought I knew what was best for me and everybody else, and I was wrong. I’m trying to fix some of the things that I messed up way back then, and part of that is having Cas over for breakfast to meet you.”

Emma nods and turns her attention to Cas. “You like my daddy?”

“Very much,” Cas says solemnly.

“Do you like ballet?”

“I’m a terrible dancer, but I’ve attended the New York Ballet several times.”

And like that, Emma approves of him. Over breakfast, she grills Cas for everything he remembers about the ballets he went to. For his part, Cas politely answers. It takes two rounds of pancakes for him to actually look  _ comfortable,  _ but he gets there.

Dean is fully aware that he’s got a dopey grin on as he watches two of his favorite people in the world meet for the first time, and he pointedly ignores looking Sam’s direction. He’ll get plenty of  _ I told you so’s _ later, which he will gladly take because it’s totally worth it if it means maybe he can have Cas back.

God he hopes he can have Cas back…

~ ~ ~

“Why didn’t you reach out to me?” Cas demands as soon as they’re alone. Sam’s offered to take Emma to the bookstore as a distraction, and now it’s just him and Dean and ten years worth of issues to work through. “We could’ve been doing this for  _ years _ —”

“You think I don’t know that?” Dean interrupts. “You think I don’t think about that every day?”

“Then why? Help me understand why you didn’t reach out to me after you and Lydia got divorced.”

“Because I’m a coward? Because I’m the one who broke things off and I figured you were over me? Because I might’ve been good enough for you when we were kids, but you’re like a million times more awesome now? And trust me, that’s saying something. You were pretty awesome to start.”

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere.” That’s a lie; Cas is far too pleased to know that Dean has read his books, followed his career, and has always thought of him as ‘awesome.’

“Can’t blame a guy for trying.” Dean runs his hands through his hair before he levels Cas an imploring look. “Can you honestly say you’d have listened to me if I’d called you out of the blue? Would you have even picked up the phone?”

Cas wishes he could place all the blame on Dean, but he knows better. Considering how angry he was about the reunion, he highly doubts he’d have behaved much better if dean tried to call him.  _ If _ he’d taken the call, he would’ve yelled or quietly seethed and not engaged in conversation. Oh he’d have spent a great deal of time  _ thinking _ about Dean afterward, tempted beyond measure, but he wouldn’t have acted.

He’s pretty sure they are where they are now because of two reasons: they actually met in person, and they were at least partially drunk at the time.

“No, probably not,” Cas admits. He sighs and deflates a little; it’s easy to play at being righteous, at being the injured party, but the truth of things is more more complex. Dean’s been hurt as much as he has in all this—Lydia, too, unless he’s misread things—and it’s unfair not to take his own share of the blame for what went wrong.

“We’re here now though,” Dean says hesitantly. “We’re talking. We could… maybe…?”

“Start over?” Cas finishes for him.

“Well, yeah? If we’re both unattached and interested, then why not?”

It’d be a lie to say Cas doesn’t want that. Even as he’d spent the last ten years cursing Dean Winchester for having broken his heart, he’d secretly wanted it. Now that there was an actual chance of that happening…

Better not to get his hopes up.

“Are you sure?” Cas says slowly. “We have very different lives now. I live in New York, you’re still in Kansas… You have a daughter… We’re not the same people we were in high school. Is it possible that no matter how much we might  _ like  _ to be together, we’ve missed our chance?”

“ _ Cas, _ ” Dean pleads. “I’m in this. I know it’s going to be hard. I know it’s gonna take one of us relocating or a long distance relationship. I know it’s going to take compromise and a lot of work. And I’m  _ still _ here. Because a  _ chance  _ at being with you is better than no chance.”

“How can you be sure, though? What makes you think I’m worth the effort?”

“Because I know what it’s like to have you and what it’s like to not have you in my life, and I’m tired of not having you around. It sucks. I mean Emma and work and school and all that, those are great, but—”

“School?” Cas interrupts.

"Oh uh, yeah… I’m uh… doing some night classes. Nothing too impressive,” he adds in a rush. “Just trying to do some classes to become a nurse. I’m not even like halfway through the coursework—”

“It’s definitely impressive,” Cas says. “A single parent who works full time and is a part time student? You always sold yourself short.”

“Yeah well…” Dean blushes and scratches the back of his neck. “You know me.”

Cas decides to do Dean a favor and change the topic. “So you’re committed. I appreciate that, but…” He licks his lips; he also ignores the way Dean tracks the movement. “But what if we’re not compatible anymore? What if the spark we once had is gone?”

“Wasn’t gone last night.”

_ No, it definitely was not. _

“Sex doesn’t make a relationship. At least not one I’m interested in.”

“Fair point,” Dean says with a huff. “Look, I’m willing to give it a try. That’s all I can promise. Maybe we  _ don’t _ work anymore. I don’t really believe that, but hey, what do I know? You’re worth the risk, Cas.  _ We’re _ worth the risk. And in the end, if it crashes and burns, and least then I’ll  _ know _ . I’ll  _ know _ I tried. You won’t… you won’t  _ haunt _ me the way you do now.”

Haunting each other. That’s probably a great way to describe it; Cas is haunted by Dean’s green eyes and freckles and lips. He sees them in everyone with even the slightest resemblance. No one else has ever measured up, and he doesn’t think anyone else  _ can _ measure up to the boy he fell in love with over a decade ago.

He hopes very much that this Dean, all grown up, will finally be able to take the empty place in Cas’ heart.

“Okay,” Cas says. “We’ll have to talk logistics, but let’s try. Unless… Unless there’s any concerns  _ you  _ have?”

“Nah,” Dean says with a dismissive wave. His smile, even though he’s doing his best to contain it, is blinding. “As long as you’re good with Emma, I’m good.”

Emma. Cas doesn’t know where to start with Emma. He’d been reluctant to meet her for obvious reasons. He’s not exactly great with children, and this was  _ Dean’s _ daughter… But he’d spent all of one minute with her before he’d fallen in love.

She has so much of Dean in her, from her eyes to her freckles to her attitude. There’s some Lydia there, too, but Cas is surprised to find that it doesn’t bother him nearly as much as he thought it would. While he has no idea how to proceed in building a relationship with the young girl, he has no doubts that he will be able to do so.

“Would she… would she like to go to the New York Ballet?” Cas offers. “I don’t really follow their performances, but I’m sure we can figure out something…”

“Dude.” Dean’s laughing. “You take her to the New York Ballet—or  _ any _ ballet, really—she’ll like you more than she likes me.”  

“Really?” Cas asks hopefully. He doesn’t really believe Emma will like him more than Dean, but he does want her to like him at least a little.

“Absolutely. How ‘bout this… I don’t know what your schedule looks like, but I’d love for you to stay in town a bit longer. If you can’t, you can’t. If you can, awesome. You can stay here. My bed, the guest room, or you can stick to the hotel if that’s less messy. A few more days to get a feel for each other wouldn’t hurt.  _ After _ that, we’ll look into some ballet performances, check my work schedule and Emma’s school stuff, and we’ll come up to New York to visit you.”

Cas nods. “So we start long distance?”

“I think so? Way too soon to talk about moving.”

“Agreed.” Even if his home had a spare room which would be perfect for Emma and his own bedroom is far too big and lonely for one person. Even if he can do his work just as easily from Kansas as New York. They’ve waited ten years. A little patience now so they can do things  _ right _ is more than fair. “I can stay until Wednesday, I think, but then I have a book signing in Newport I have to get to.”

“Awesome. So the hotel or…?”

“Here. We’ll start with the guest room?”

“Cool.”

Neither of them can stop smiling. They’ve shifted closer to each other, their legs pressed together and now their pinkies linked. Cas’ stomach won’t stop somersaulting. Already he knows what his next book will be: two lovers reconnecting by chance and falling in love all over again. He’s also very confident that they’ll have a happy ending.

He’ll make sure of it.

— fin —

* * *

**Epilogue:**

— Sam sticks around for a few days because he wants to make sure things don’t blow up in Dean’s face, having Cas stay at the house. They don’t. But Sam’s glad he stayed; it convinces him that Dean and Cas are just as in love as ever. When he leaves, he wishes them luck (though he’s pretty sure they don’t need it).

— The long distance thing actually works pretty well for them. It lets them ease into it. They alternate spending a week or so with each other in Kansas and New York, or occasionally meet somewhere else for a vacation. They do that for a year or so until it gets to be too much. Dean doesn’t mind driving, but the miles he’s putting on the Impala are insane. Cas spends so much time on Skype calls with Dean that he loses an absurd amount of valuable writing time.

And then Emma starts calling Cas papa and it’s settled. They’re a family. They need to start living like one.

— Cas refuses to let Dean move. Emma’s in school,  _ Dean’s _ in school, and it’s too much of a disruption to ask either of them to start all over somewhere new. He  _ does _ insist they buy a new place. He likes Dean’s house, but he needs a place with an office he can commandeer for writing. Dean loves the idea; the two of them picking a place  _ together _ that they’ll build into their  _ home _ .

And yes, Emma gets veto power on the houses they pick.

— Cas actually keeps the house in New York. It’s scenic and a nice vacation spot. He arranges to rent it out most of the time, saving a few weeks for them around Spring Break and in the summer.

— It takes some adjustment for Cas to actually  _ live _ with Dean and Emma. He was only sort of a parental figure before, but now he’s much more involved. There are lunches to make, parent teacher conferences to attend, ballet practices to coordinate, arguments about homework and chores that had always fallen to Dean… It’s hard.

And Cas wouldn’t give it up for anything.

— Dean finishes night school and becomes a nurse at a pediatrician’s office near the house. Dean loves it, and Cas loves that it makes Dean happy. Emma is  _ not _ thrilled, only because her dad now has opportunity to gossip with all her classmates and their parents when they go in for check ups.

— Cas doesn’t think the changes will affect him much professionally. He’s sorely mistaken. It gets to the media he’s dating and all the book critics lose their damn minds. All the people who talked about the theme of unrequited pining in his books, of relationships gone sour and never bouncing back, they loudly speculate what this change will mean for Castiel’s work.

Cas isn’t so naive to think that it won’t leak into his writing, but that doesn’t mean he’s any less annoyed that he keeps getting asked the same question at every interview: “So how are things with Dean?”

Dean finds this hilarious.

— Dean’s kinda soured to the idea of getting married. He tells Cas over and over that it isn’t personal, that it’s _ his _ baggage with Lydia. Cas assures him he doesn’t care either way. He’s only ever wanted Dean.

— They  _ do _ get married. Emma briefly wants to be the flower girl (despite being sixteen), but in the end she has a much more important role to fill: she walks Dean down the aisle and gives him away.

— Meeting Lydia again is… awkward. Cas doesn’t know what to expect, if there’ll be any lingering hostility on his or her part, and then there’s Dean’s reaction to consider. In the end, it’s probably good they did meet. Cas gets to see for himself that Dean and Lydia are on good terms but have no romantic interest in each other. He can see for himself that Lydia isn’t upset that Emma calls him papa (though she does raise an eyebrow at that).

And when Lydia pulls Cas aside to talk, Cas relaxes more. They both get shit off their chests that they’ve been holding in. Lydia’s guilt that she split them up, plus her guilt about not being a good wife or mother, and her relief when she’d heard Dean and Cas got back together. Cas’ anger that the whole mess had started, but his eventual acceptance that life happens and that no one’s to blame for it.

They don’t see each other much after that, but it’s never as strained or tense as Cas worried it would be.

— Cas writes a whole series of love stories. They’re not just love stories; one involves a cyborg, another a pirate queen, and another is about two blind girls born to warring dessert clans. The one very important thing that connects all of them: the lovers are never separated for long and they always end up with a happy ending.

 

* * *

 

**Bonus Scene 1: After Cas decides to stay in Kansas a bit longer**

**Cas:** I know I’m scheduled to fly out late tonight, but I’m going to need—

**Hannah:** To change that until Wednesday? When you need to fly out to Portland

**Cas, suspiciously:** Yes….

**Hannah:** No problem. I’ve already gotten you a new ticket.

***awkward silence***

**Hannah:** So how are things going with your beau?

**Cas:** …. I feel like you already know the answer to that.

 

**Bonus Scene 2: When Dean and Cas are about to get married**

**Emma:** So how come you and Cas didn’t end up together sooner? Like right after the divorce?

**Dean:** Because I didn’t think he’d still be interested. You can’t just assume your high school sweetheart will be into you years later.

**Emma:** … You’re joking, right?

**Dean:** … No???

**Emma, dragging Dean to their bookshelf:** You’ve read these, right?

**Dean:** Of course I’ve— 

**Emma, pulling out Cas’ books one by one:** Character who says “awesome” and “son of a bitch” a lot. Character with freckles. Character who has a muscle car. Character who makes lame “your face” jokes. Character who drops out of school to become a mechanic. Character with “the greenest eyes to ever green.” Character who’s allergic to cats. I could go on, there’s still like ten more books.

**Dean, barely able to balance the books she’s shoved into his hands:** Nope, I think you’ve made your point.


End file.
